Loud Chef
by Takaluca
Summary: After meeting his father's rival in the Art of cooking, Lincoln must represent Lynn'Sr restaurant in a competition against the rivals son and several other mini chefs to prove who can make the best out of what they have in disposal. Can he win in this competition with what he knows about the kitchen? (Request by Aartman7141999. His OC's, not mine)


Ah, the day to bring your kids to work. That day of the year where the kids are excused from school to learn a bit more of the professional and responsible time of life that's called having a job. Along the many kids spread through companies, stores and whatever other business scattered around Royal Woods, one particular albino kid arrived with his father to a restaurant, where he was the chef.

Yes, Lincoln had been to the Aloha Comrade before. But since last year he went with his mother to her job, he changed places with his sisters. Apart from being a day free from school, Lincoln would get to spend some time with his father, and learn all the wonders that happened back in the kitchen.

They arrived before breakfast time, which meant super early, where Lynn could show his son everything before the hot work on the oven made it hard to focus on father-son bonding. They entered the restaurant, a bell ringing from the door opening, the tables still being set by a couple of employees, who waved at them before returning to their main jobs, and the Louds headed towards the kitchen.

Even if Lincoln had seen professional kitchens on the television before, in real life it was a different experience. From the equipment, to the food storage, and a chef working to make sure everything was ready before the day started. He noticed the two entering, and turned to face them. The chubby brown haired man already had his apron and he was wearing the hat which made it look like there was a bone coming out of his head. He waved a hand towards them.

"Morning, Loud." He greeted and approached. "I see you brought someone with ya?"

"Hey boss." Lynn Sr replied. "This is Lincoln, my son. Today is bring your kids to work day. The girls are with their mom." Lincoln waved his hand.

"Oh yeah, I remember the girls, and the boy." He said, offering the hand. "Nice to see ya again."

"It's good to see you too, uh…"

"Call me Sergei, boy. No need for formalities in here."

"Alright, then." Lincoln said.

"Well, boy, it's time to show ya all the wonders that happen in a kitchen. Ya know how to cook?"

"Eh…" Lincoln looked a bit nervous. "Not much. All I do is breakfast back home. Eggs and stuff, very simple."

"Hey, it's a start. Ya can't know how to cook everything when you begin. Why don't you show how it's done? I'm a bit hungry, ya know?" He teased the kid, with a giggle following it.

"M-me? B-but…"

Lynn Sr places a hand on the boy's shoulder "Hey son, don't worry. We won't judge you, just give it your best, if you want to, of course." Lynn Sr. said.

"O-okay." Lincoln said. He took a frying pan, and a couple eggs from the fridge. From his years of experience, the only thing he basically had to master was how to cook one of the most common food items known to mankind. In a few minutes, he had a couple of well done eggs in the metal object. A bit of salt and a spatula was all he needed to lay the dish on a plate. It wasn't exactly a complex dish, but for a basic recipe, the orange yolk surrounded by the now solid and clean whites surely made it look like it was made by an at least decent cook.

"Now, let's give it a try." Sergei took a fork and knife, cutting a piece of the egg for himself. He used the fork to penetrate the yolk, making a yellow liquid spread through the white surface. He cut a piece of the watered whites, and gave it a try.

"Oh boy, not bad. Not bad at all." Sergei said, already cutting another piece.

"Heh, thanks." Lincoln said, with a mixture of pride with a bit of embarrassment.

"Ya son would do well in the kitchen if he wants to, Loud. With enough practice, he could work here himself once he has the age."

Just then, they heard another bell ringing. From what they knew, there was nobody from the crew missing for breakfast. They saw two men, an adult and a boy, hearing the explanation of the waiter, that they weren't open yet. The man was tall, an unshaven goatee, with a Rasta beret on his head with dreadlocks. His outfit consisted of a tropical shirt, shorts and flip flops, with a apron all over it. The kid, apart from the size and lack of facial hair, was basically a copy of the man, maybe a mini-him. They were probably father and son.

The waiter kept talking to them, before Lynn and Sergei made their way towards the eating area. As much as Lincoln was oblivious to who those two men were, they seemed to be very aware.

"Harley…" Lynn said.

"Loud, Guy I forgot surname." He replied.

"I'm sorry, but we're not open for customers yet. You'll have to come back later." Sergei said. Lincoln could feel the tension coming from both adults.

"Uh, dad, who's he?"

"Oh, where I my manners? Let me introduce myself. I'm chef Saul Harley, and this is my son, Paul."

"_Hi._" Paul said, shyly behind his father, waving his hand. Lincoln replied it. He seemed to be around his age, maybe an year younge, still, he was much shorter.

"I'm the head cook of the Paradise Courtyard, a restaurant a couple blocks away from this place."

"Well, thank you for your visit. But unfortunately, we must return to our schedule." Sergei said

"Of course, I didn't intend to spend much time here at all." He teased them. "Actually, I just wanted to tell my son's first cooking award."

All of them fell silent.

"Yes, he's the first champion of the Annual Royal Woods Kids Cook-off. Just like I've been in the adult tournament for the last five consecutive years. Am I right, Lynn?"

"Wait a second, that hasn't even happened yet." Sergei pointed out

"Oh please, we all know who's going to win. Nobody reaches his levels of cooking."

"Oh, come on, I bet the Loud boy could beat yours in that competition." Sergei said.

Saul faced the white haired boy. "Oh, it's really so? Then why don't you give it a try, little guy?" He backed up a few steps. "Now, I'd love to stay and chat a bit more, but I must go, gotta get my mini chef prepared." He turned around and both of them walked out of the restaurant.

Lincoln seemed surprised, while the adults seemed a bit angry.

"Wow, what was that?" He asked.

"He's our main rival. And he loves to brag how he is better than everyone else." Lynn Sr explained.

"We've been trying to beat him for the last five years, but to no avail." Sergei continued. "It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so arrogant about it."

"Yeah, he sure looks _fun, _huh?" Lincoln said sarcastically.

"You should sign the boy into that competition, Loud. With what he knows and your help, maybe we could finally beat him, and send his smile to the floor." Sergei said.

"He's right, Linc, you can do it. We'll go there, and show them who's the real boss in the kitchen."

"Uh...I'm not sure…"

"Come on, boy, there's no need to be afraid. Do it, show that the soul of a true chef runs in the family."

Lincoln felt uneasy. He liked making breakfast, sure, but actual cooking in a competition? Though, he also didn't want to let his dad and Sergi down. Decisions, decisions… Then, without thinking, and probably due to the pressure, he blurted out, "Fine, I'll do it!"

"That's the spirit, son." Lynn said. "Now, we gotta start training, we don't have a lot of time."

"Wait, when it this competition going to be?"

"Next weekend, Saturday morning." Sergei said.

"Wait, one week?" Lincoln said, surprised. "I don't know if I'll have the time…"

* * *

_One week later_

"To prepare myself…" He said.

One week later, and the pressure was raising on his back. Now he was at the giant kitchen that was in the studio of the Annual Royal Woods Kids Cook-Off. The place was huge, he had his own balcony, filled with every sort of equipment his father showed him in the days they had to train, and around the place were several other benches, 15, to be more precise, each one with a kid from ages 8 to 14, each one with their personalized store with their names printed on it. And behind, there was his family, plus some friends and employees from the Aloha Camarad. Father and employees on front, and his mother and sisters behind, all of them cheering for him in seats set specifically for each team.. He spot the kid he had met a few days earlier, he was actually on his left side. And looking at the seats, he felt the tense atmosphere the two groups of employees had, specially as he was representing his father's restaurant.

Lincoln was nervous, he was against 14 other small chefs, all competing to be called the best of them all. He noticed a woman walking to the center, surrounded by the benches of the Young's cooks. She had a microphone in her hands, and a spotlight shined on her.

"Welcome everyone, to the Annual Royal Woods Kids Cook-Off!" She announced, earning claps from the audience. "I'm your host, Katherine Mulligan. Before we start, let's congratulate the presence of all of our little chefs!"

More claps were heard, with also whispers. He think he heard one of his sisters saying 'crush their soul', but he wasn't sure. "Now, to the rules of the game. Today, we'll have a series of 3 trials, the first two will eliminate 5 of the fifteen candidates, and the last one will define the winner. Our judges will examine each and every dish, basing their choices over the taste, presentation, and creativity. Now, let's introduce our judges!"

He turned to the side, where another spotlight shined, revealing 3 people, two men and a woman, which all received claps. Lincoln had no idea who these people were, he wasn't really connected to the world of cooking that much. And he was too nervous to actually hear the names their host said. All he saw was one of the two men standing a bit forward, and noticed there was a tray hidden by a silver cover.

"This entire competition will revolve around preparing a full meal, like in a real restaurant, which I'm sure some are familiar with. For the first trial, you'll prepare a full entree. Only requests is, you'll have to use…" he pulled the cover up, revealing two different ingredients. Chicken, and eggs.

"You're allowed to use everything you have at your disposal on the fridge and cabinets behind your counters, but at least one of these two has to be the main ingredient of your dish."

Lincoln felt a bit relieved, after all, he was sure there was something he could do with the eggs. He wasn't entirely sure with the chicken, but he could improvise if needed, right?

"You'll have exactly half an hour to prepare your dish." That phrase scared Lincoln. If there's one thing that scares people, it's time limits. "Remember, this in an entree, sometimes something simpler is better than a complex and complicated dish. Now, everyone get ready. 3...2...1...GO!"

The clock began running, as Lincoln dashed to the stock he had. Eggs, ham, salt, pepper, parmesan, chives, and a few other vegetables. That should be perfect for what he had in mind. Sometimes he made the dish back at home when he was bored and wanted a snack. Definitely worth running all over the house trying to escape your sisters that always tried to steal it. He trained a bit before too, and he knew he'd have enough time to finish it before time ran out.

First, he preheated the oven, before reaching for a baking sheet under the counter. He covered it in cooking spray, before getting to the ingredients themselves. He grabbed two bowls, a large one, and a small one, and began separating the yolks and the white from the eggs. 8 eggs later, and 10 minutes been gone already, he began to beat the egg whites, until they began forming stiff peaks. He then gently folded in the ham and Parmesan, seasoning it with salt and pepper.

Next, he took out a wooden spoon and scooped eight mounds of the egg whites onto a baking sheet and indented centers to form nests. He placed them in the oven and waited a few minutes to take them out, resulting in them being a golden color. It looked good already, but he wasn't finished.

Then, he carefully scooped an egg yolk into the center of each nest and seasoned it with salt and pepper as well. He put them back in and waited another few minutes before they were ready. He took them out, and garnished it with the chives and other vegetables he chopped while the eggs were cooking. After he was done, he cleaned his hands on his attire. He had to say, he was proud of his work. He looked around. Some were already done, like his rival, while others were in the final steps. He took two plates from the balcony, and served four eggs in each plate, forming a sort of square formed of circle. And he still had one minute left.

He turned around to his audience, who were cheering since he started cooking, filled with a few tips from the chefs that were at his side. He gave them a proud smile, before they heard the bell announcing the time was over. He raises his hand, and went back to his balcony. Next, the judges began going through every single balcony. He couldn't hear the others, but when the judges approached, that's when he got nervous.

"What have you cooked for us today?" The woman asked.

"Clouded eggs." He answered and presented the dish. "It's eggs, ham, parmesan, chives, salt, and pepper."

The judges grabbed a pair of fork and knife for each one, and they all tried the dish. They chewed for a long time, before swallowing and placing the silverware back in the balcony. They all said thank you, before moving to the next counter. Five minutes which felt like eternity, they went back to their spot.

"Alright. We've tried every single dish, and now we'll call some of you. You hear your name, approach us." He said. "Andrew, Brian, Erika, Lincoln and Paul." He called. Lincoln made his way towards the judges.

"The five of you were the best chefs of this first trial. But, of course, we have to choose the best of you all. The best entree we tried to say, was…"

Lincoln still hated all the drama they made to announce everything.

"Lincoln." They said. He heard cheering coming from his balcony, as he approached the judges a bit more.

"Your recipe was simple, light, and tasted very good, perfect for an entree." They explained. "But all five of you did very well, you may return to your balconies."

Lincoln ran back happy to the balcony. His family was all hanging on the bars that prevented them from falling to the kitchen, as Lincoln jumped and gave a hive five to all of them, who were with their hands lowered down. He was so excited, he even missed the other things the judges said. All he knew was that, by the time he looked back, there were a few of the kids missing. The judges faced everyone that still remained.

"First of all, congratulations to all of you who still stay with us." The woman said, followed by claps. "Now, for our second challenge, after the entree, comes the main dish. This time, you'll have 1 hour and a half to make this dish. As there are less participants, we want to see full dedication and creativity on your meals, therefore there won't be restrictions to the ingredients." She announced.

Lincoln faced his opponents, most of them seemed quite confident, even if there were less of them. That means there's a bigger chance of being eliminated. And he could feel the eyes of his family on him. He breathed in and out, and prepared to do what he could learn on his experience in the kitchen.

"As the chef said, you have one hour and a half to make your delicious meals." Katherine said. "Their stomachs still have space, and their mouths full of expectation. Now...3...2...1...COOK!"

Lincoln looked over his ingredients, trying to come up with an idea. He had a flashback to one time where the house was nearly out of food aside from the exact ones he had in front of him (though there he had almost everything at his disposal) - boneless beef, salt and ground pepper, and garlic, alongside other things like vegetable oil. Using his innovation, he had used the sparse ingredients to make some Chicago-inspired Italian beef sandwiches to help hold himself and everyone else over before they would be restocked after a trip to the supermarket. Or at least that's what he liked to call it. Or the owner of the recipe when he typed the ingredients liked to call it. Creative, he thought.

Back to the present, he knew just what to do. He seasoned the beef with a pinch of salt and black pepper, then heated up the vegetable oil in a heavy pot. He cooked and stirred the beef in hot oil for around 5 to 8 minutes, until it was fully brown.

He stirred garlic, vinegar, oregano, 1 1/2 teaspoons salt, thyme, rosemary, 1 teaspoon black pepper, bay leaf, and red pepper flakes into the beef. He made sure to pour enough chicken broth into beef mixture to cover the meat by 1 inch and brought it to a simmer. Then, covering the pot with a lid, he reduced the heat to low, and let it simmer until the meat was fork-tender. That usually took about an hour, which left enough time to do the rest of the steps needed to prepare it.

He transferred the meat with a strainer to a separate pot. He poured about 1/4 cup of meat broth into it and used a wooden spoon to gently break meat into smaller chunks. The pot was covered with a lid or aluminum foil to be kept that, the foil was removed and excess grease was skilled off from top of the broth remaining in the first pot; then seasoned with salt and pepper to taste. The pot was then covered with a lid or aluminum foil as well.

Lincoln layed halves of a roll of bread out on the space he had and spooned 2 to 3 tablespoons of meat broth over each half. He topped the bottom half of each roll with a generous portion of meat and a spoonful of pickled vegetables and placed the tops on the sandwich. He repeated this with the remaining buns, broth, meat, and pickled vegetables to make enough sandwiches for all of the judges.

He spooned hot meat broth into ramekins and topped each ramekin with 1/2 of teaspoon parsley. Finally, he included the hot broth for dipping and was ready to serve the meal to the judges. And good timing too, as he barely even had 10 seconds before time was up.

And then so, the process started up all judges went to each counter at a time. Even if it was the same situation as before, Lincoln could say he was a little bit more nervous than before when they came and he explained what he did. After they tasting it, and going through the remaining counters, they finally returned to their regular spot.

"Now, please take a step forward: Erika, Paul and Zack" The only woman on the group of 3 called.

Wait a second...they didn't called Lincoln's name. He began looking at the other opponents, who seemed to be getting a bit nervous, then back to his family, all of them with apparent worried expressions.

"What has happened?" Lincoln's father whispered to him.

"I don't know. I did as best as I could!" He whispered back.

"Apparently it wasn't enough." He complained, before sighing. "Just wait a bit, there's still a chance."

And so he did. and after a couple minutes, the 3 mini chefs went back to their counters, proud and earning claps from their cheering groups. Everyone else seemed more nervous than before.

"Lincoln, Brian and Richard!" The judges called. The 3 of them approached the judges, Lincoln was already sweating, even if the air conditioner was on.

"You 3 weren't the best dishes in performance in our opinion, however you weren't the worst as well." One of the two men declared. "The 3 dishes had a few mistakes or details we didn't appreciated. Brian, your stew was missing spices, its taste wasn't bad, but it missed the potential to be delicious with the right flavours."

The other men then began. "Richard, while the idea of your dish was interesting, the beef you served was almost carbonized. Needless to say that it loses a lot of its good qualities."

Then the woman began speaking. "Lincoln, your dish was...surprising, to say the least. We were expecting a main dish, but what you served...it looked more like a snack than anything. It's like you've gathered random food and put it all together between bread."

Those words made Lincoln freeze. His choice of dish would get him eliminated?

"Now, it was a bit hard for us to judge. Brian , while your dish wasn't the best tasting, the idea was concrete, and even if the taste wasn't very apparent, if you pay close attention, it is very good. Therefore, you've passed to the lass phase."

Lincoln looked to his side, Brian thanked the judges, before going back to his counter, to meet with his personal cheer group. He remained alone with the other boy.

"Now, we have to decide, between the interesting idea with not so good results, or the not so interesting idea with...surprisingly good results." The woman said. "Richard, as much as your concept was good, we evaluate the final results, therefore...Lincoln, you pass to the final challenge."

Lincoln's humor changed in an instant, and he thanked the judges before running back to his counter. While he did so, the announcer was already at the center, explaining they'd have a break, and return only in an hour, so the five selected chefs could relax a bit. He would enjoy that, so he went to meet with his cheer group.

Most of them congratulated, and were happy to see he managed to make it to the final trial. After a few minutes, when everyone decided to give the boy some space, Lynn Sr pulled him to the side, where they could have a bit more privacy.

"What just happened back there?" His father asked, apparently with a mixture of relief and annoyance.

"Uh...I passed!" Lincoln said.

"How do you offer a sandwich in a competition of these? I know we didn't have much time, but there were so many better dishes you could have done, and with much less risk."

"Well, I thought it was a good idea, I'm going by ideas I've cooked up before that turned out well."

"Lincoln, this isn't brunch at home, this is a competition! It's the chance we have to beat our rivals. You have to give them the best of the best, not the first idea you have in mind."

Lincoln sighed. "I'm just trying, dad. But I'm not the best chef, you know that."

"Nonsense, I've taught you a lot, and you've learned a lot yourself. But you can consider this like a child's game, you gotta try harder!"

"It's already hard enough!" Lincoln exclaimed. The pressure while cooking was already getting on his nerves.

"Don't raise your tone of voice to me!" Lynn warned.

"I'm sorry, I'm just under a lot of pressure and this really isn't helping!"

"It's not supposed to! But you have to deal with it! Or will you just give up?!"

"I-I dunno, at this point that doesn't sound half bad to me!"

"What? You can't give up! I'm saying so, you will win for us, to show them that we're better then them! Out of question."

"For us? I didn't even want to actually take part in this, I just- I dunno what came over me when I said yes last week. I didn't even have much time to prepare between school and my sisters."

"But we did! I did my part, now it's your turn to finish yours. This isn't only about you, it's for our name, and our restaurant. Don't you want to make us proud?"

"You know what? No, I don't, if this is what I have to be under!" Lincoln exclaimed, as he began walking away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Home! You can tell them I gave up!" he shouted.

Lynn Sr wanted to say something, but he just breathing heavily. It was already stressing enough to see his son on this challenge, but why couldn't he see he was just trying to help him so he could win, he wouldn't understand. He wasn't sure how he would tell everyone he gave up. He decided to walk around to relax a bit. MAybe after that he could tell about his son's decision, even if it wasn't what he wanted

He was still fuming as he was walking around the block out of the building, but as he kept walking it started ebbing away a bit. Soon, he was able to clear his mind and think without stressing out again. However, before he had time to do this, he noticed a kid, around his son's age, sitting on the ground just outside of the building. He recognized that boy. It was the son of his rival, Paul. He seemed kinda sad, really, so he approached him.

"Hey pal, what ya doin out here? he asked. He seemed surprised when he heard his voice.

"Oh, uh, it's nothing. J-just had to catch some fresh air." His shy voice was a bit different, Lynn felt there was something the boy wanted to put out.

"You sure? You seem kinda bothered." He pointed out.

"Eh, maybe you're right." He sighed. "I didn't want to be here, ya know?"

"What do you mean?" Lynn said, confused

"I don't really like to cook that much. But it's my dad's profession, and his hobby."

"So why are you the one competing, then?"

"I just...I just wanted to spend some time with him. He isn't home most of the time, and he always liked to show me how good he is." He explained, looking down. "I...I thought it would be a way for us to do something together, but the kitchen ain't place. N-no offense to him or you, Mr."

"I- oh…" Lynn Sr. realized how similar that sounded to what had just happened. "Well, if that's how you feel, then you should let him know. It's better than just bottling it up and forcing yourself to do something you don't want to. No father should ever force his kid to do anything."

"I don't know how to tell him. He loves what he does, and i get that, but I didn't want him to make me do what he likes only for us to spend time together. I...I don't know how."

"Sometimes you've just gotta put your voice out there, even if it may be difficult for the both of you. If you want, I could bring him over here."

"I-I know but still, it is hard. It's like your son, the white haired boy. He likes to cook like you, doesn't he?"

"Well...actually, no, he doesn't really. he can handle himself, but it's not his favourite thing."

"Then why is he in this competition?"

"Well… I kind of wanted him to compete against you and win, and I guess I let it get to my head." He then began to realize maybe the reason Lincoln left It wasn't something for the 2 of them, but rather only for Lynn himself. "Oh my...I messed up."

"Well, he is right there." He pointed towards a bus station near the entrance of the studio. "Why don't you try to talk to him?"

"But what if he's still mad at me?"

"I dunno. you're the adult here, i think that, if he's mad, maybe you can change that."

Lynn Sr. looked back toward where his only son was sitting. "Maybe you're right. Even if he is mad at me, I've gotta at least apologize. Thank you."

"No problem, Mr. And thanks for the chat." Paul said.

Lynn Sr made his way to Lincoln, who stood up and made a sign for the bus to stop. Before he could get in, though, Lynn called his name, which had gotten the attention of the boy.

"What is it, dad?"

"Lincoln, listen, uh...I'm sorry for losing my mind with you back there. I..it was an stressful situation. For all of us, though I'm sure it was more for you."

Lincoln did not respond or even turn his head.

"I...I wanted you to achieve something that i couldn't achieve, and I forgot to think about what you wanted. You don't have to forgive me or anything, just know that, if you wanna give up...there's no problem, I won't force you to do what I want, like I should have before all this started."

This time, Lincoln acknowledged his presence. "I'm sorry for losing my cool back there too. It was just… too much for me to handle."

"I understand son. This is a big thing...which you shouldn't have participated if it wasn't what you wanted. We put too much pressure on you. If you want to finish this, it's okay, but if you don't wanna, it's also fine-"

"Hey, will you get in the bus or not?!" The driver of the vehicle parked in front of them shouted.

"So, son, what do you wanna do?"

Lincoln thought about it for a bit. "Well… you know what? There's one last round and I made it this far, so maybe I could finish what I've started, even if I don't win."

"Well then, it's your choice, and if you want to, that's the spirit." Lynn Sr changed his tone to a more exciting one. "So let's get back inside?"

"Yeah, I think they're gonna announce the last round soon." And with that, they both walked back to the building. According to the clock, they still had a few more minutes before the game restarted.

They went back into the studio, Lincoln going back to the bench, and Lynn Sr back to his spot behind him. To be honest, Lincoln wasn't as nervous as before. he would give his best, regardless of him winning or not. He saw his four other opponents, between them his rival, all seemed ready for action.

"Welcome back, to the Annual Royal Woods Kids Cook-Off!" Katherine announced. "We only have five of our mini chefs left. Who is going to be the big champion of today's show?"

Then, the 3 judges walked back on stage after a series of cheers and claps. The woman stood forward to speak.

"Congratulations to the five of you who have made this far. You've shown you have a level of cooking of which you can be proud of. But now it's the test that will make one of you the champion of this challenge. Now, we had the entree and the mani dish, now we ask you to prepare a dessert. just like the last trial, no restrictions. It's time to put your skill and heart on your last dish. And for this trial, you'll have… one hour."

Lincoln put on his game face and knew exactly what he wanted to do. It was something he and his dad practiced last week. A dessert his sisters loved to try, as one of their favorite foods was included on it.

He started by preheating the oven to around 325 degrees fahrenheit. In a large bowl, he mixed together granulated sugar, brown sugar, and vegetable oil, then mixed in two eggs, one at a time. After that was vanilla extract, buttermilk, and hot coffee, stirring them until they were combined. This was set aside for the next part.

In a different large bowl, he sifted together flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and cocoa powder. He gradually mixed the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. He poured batter evenly into prepared pans, two cups per pan.

He let it bake on middle rack for about 25 minutes, making sure to not overbake it so it would look moist on the top. Afterwards, he removed it from oven and let the cakes sit in hot pans until warm to the touch. Carefully, he removed from pans wearing an oven mitt, and placed on a cooling rack to finish cooling.

Meanwhile, he took the time to make the frosting by combining powder sugar, butter and cocoa powder in a large bowl until it was crumbly. He gradually added in enough heavy whipping cream to achieve the desired texture. He mixed in vanilla extract and a pinch of salt, and soon the frosting was ready. In front of him, a beautiful chocolate cake layered in its majestic structure. And right on time as well.

Another cycle of the judges going around trying the different desserts, until they went back to the middle. It was a much shorter circuit, as there were less people to try out. They called the five chefs in front of them. The woman was the one to talk.

"All five of you presented your own dish. All of which with their amazing traits, texture, and taste. Now, unfortunately, we have to choose one winner. It was a very hard choice, but in the end, we have to choose…Zack!"

Lincoln faced to the side, he wasn't even sure who this kid was until he ran towards his counter where his cheer group was. Lincoln just made his way back to his counter. His family still clapped for him, and so he joined them as they left their seats. Even if he didn't win, he wouldn't let that bring him down. They were about to leave, but his father held him back before they went to the family van.

"Hey son, I just wanted to tell you...I'm proud of what you did today. And that you won't have to ever do it again unless you want to." he said, giving him a small tap on the back.

Lincoln looked back at him and gave a small smile. "Thanks, Dad. Today wasn't so bad after all. Sorry I couldn't beat your rival"

"Don't worry about it, that's something between me and him." He said. "As stressful as it was, it was also fun. Now, what do you think if we have my famous Lynnsanga for dinner?"

"That sounds great. I'm actually kinda hungry right now."

And so, both of them went back towards the rest of the family so they could return home. It was an...interesting day to say the least, and they learned various things. But probably the most important was, sometimes, you gotta listen to what the other person wants.

"Wait, Loud!" the two of them heard from behind them. They turned around to met with both of their rivals, father and son, Saul and Paul. The former had a grin on his face, while the latter had a shy face facing a bit down.

"What is it, Harley?" Lynn Sr asked

"Guess your son didn't won this time." The adult mocked.

"Well, technically, neither did you." Lincoln pointed out.

"Whatever. I'll still get you on the adult version of this competition. Besides, my boy here will get you next year and-"

"Uh, dad? I...I don't really want to compete again." Paul interrupted.

"What? Don't be silly, champ, just because you didn't won this time doesn't mean you can just give up and-"

"No, dad, it's not that. I...I don't really like cooking that much. Not like you."

"What do you mean? I thought you always liked to do it. I've seen you always enjoy it when we do it home or when I bring you to the restaurant."

"Well, yeah, but…" The boy tried to say something, but he seemed to shy to continue.

"Maybe it's not the cooking he enjoy. But rather spending time with you." Lynn Sr said. "I mean, you're his father after all."

"Why do you think you'd know what my boy thinks?" He asked, annoyed.

"Well, I have eleven kids, so I have some experience. Plus, that came from your son, not me." He explained.

Saul made a surprised expression, before turning his head back to his kid. "It that true, champ?" He asked, as the shy boy just nodded to him.

"Why did you never told me all these time? I thought you enjoyed being in the kitchen."

"It's just...you're so good and so proud, I'I didn't want to let you down, not here against your rival, nor when we were home.I-I'm sorry, but-"

"No, son, this is my fault. I shouldn't have forced you into this if you didn't really wanted to do so. We can find more time and things to do together, this time something you enjoy."

"Really?"

"Of course, son. Your old man won't leave you without it." He said, as the small shy boy opened his arms and went to his father's encounter, meeting in a hug.

"Well, uh, I guess we'll get going." Lynn Sr said. "My family is waiting in the car and-"

"Don't think this is over, Loud. My kid might not want to cook, but I'll still beat you any day." He said, laughing.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." Lynn Sr said, with a competitive smile, before he turned around. "I'll get you next year, you can be sure of that."

"You're a cool guy, Loud, but you will never cook as well as me. Show up at my house, I'll prove it to you."

"Really? Me, at your house?" Lynn asked, laughing, but a bit confused.

"Hey, no hard feelings man. Outside the kitchen, it's all good between us. What ya think, healthy rivalry only at work?"

"That can definitely work out. Now let go, Lincoln. Having 11 angry girls waiting for us is the worst thing that could happen."

Lincoln gulped, as the two began making their way to the exit. They heard a laugh coming from behind them. Maybe Saul Harley would still be Lynn Sr's rival in the kitchen, but they were sure that, in that day, both of them learned a bit more about their own kids.


End file.
